rench's International Copyrighted (in England, her Colonies, and 
the United States) Edition of the Works of the Best Authors 




RS. COULSON'S 
DAUGHTER 

B One act HMag tot (3frlg 

BY 

ELIZABETH GALE 

Author of "Aunt Maggie's Will," " The Rag-Carpet Bee." 



CAUTION.— The professional acting rights of "Mrs. Coulsoirs 
Daughter." are reserved. For terms for professional use, apply- 
to Samuel French, 28-30 West 38th Street. New York. This notice 
does not apply to amateurs, who may perform the play without 
permission. 



New York 
SAMUEL FRENCH 

PUBLISHER 

28^30 WEST 38th STREET 



London 

SAMUEL FRENCH, Ltd. 

26 Southampton Street 

STRAND 



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••€••••••••• 



MRS. COULSON'S 
DAUGHTER 

U ©ne Met ©lag for ©iris 



ELIZABETH GALE 

Author of "Aunt Maggie's Will," " The Rag-Carpet Bee." 



Copyright, 1912, by Samuel French 



CAUTION,— The professional acting rights of "Mrs. Coulson's 
Daughter," are reserved. For terms for professional use, apply- 
to Samuel French, 28-30 West 38th Street, New York. This notice 
does not apply to amateurs, who may perform the play without 
permission . 



New York 
SAMUEL FRENCH 

PUBLISHER 

28-30 WEST 38th STREET 



London 
SAMUEL FRENCH, Ltd. 

26 Southampton Street 
STRAND 



"y> c ^ 



<W 



MRS. COULSON'S DAUGHTER 



SYNOPSIS — Mrs Plympton receives a note from 
Mrs. Coulson, an old school friend, saying that she 
is leaving her daughter to the care of the neighbor- 
hood. She neglects to mention, however, that she is 
simply taking a trip to Enrope, and it is at once as- 
sumed that she is going to die. At the same time 
Mrs. Plympton has arranged to take a girl from the 
Westville Orphan Asylum to help her with her work. 
This orphan comes before she is expected and is mis- 
taken for Mrs. Coulson's child who arrives in time 
to see how the supposed daughter of her mother is 
received. This helps her to choose her temporary 
guardian from among the villagers and leads, her to 
offer this guardian well deserved assistance. 

The situation offers opportunities for humor and 
the play closes with the happy disposal of the orphan. 

LIST OF CHARACTERS. 

Arabella Beans A busy woman who owes a 

mortgage. 

Susie Chain Who is always in doubt. 

Minnie Hays A very positive person. 

Lizzie Land A plain country woman. 

Mrs. Little A stout lady. 

Mrs. Plympton. .. .A woman of great importance 

whose husband's people. gave the name to the 

. , : • village. 

The Orphan Who tries to speak for herself 

Carolyn. 
Grace. 
Ruth. 
Myrtle. 



Four girls from the city. 



©CI.D 30714 



MRS. COULSON'S DAUGHTER 



THE SCENE is the sitting room in Mrs. Bean's 
home. It is exceedingly neat but very scantily fur- 
nished. A few brilliant pictures decorate the walls 
and advertise Starlight Soap, Barton's Ball Blueing, 
Putnam's Ploughs, etc. Eag carpet covers the floor, 
a table is pushed against the right hand wall, a cup- 
board against the wall opposite, a sewing machine 
stands at the extreme left of the foreground and 
chairs are arranged primly about the room. At the 
rear of the room, to the right, is a door which opens 
out on the porch and another door at the left leads 
into the kitchen. 

Arabella Beans is discovered sewing furiously on 
the machine. 

Arabella, (as she finishes the garment she is 
working on and throws it over the back of a near-by 
chair) There! That's finished, all but the buttons 
and buttonholes, and it means a whole half dollar 
paid off that mortgage, and maybe, if I work like a 
steam engine, I can get the other one done, (she 
picks up another piece of work and begins to sew) 
Land knows I need to do all I can. (a rap at the 
door) Come in. 

(Enter Susie Grain.) 

Susie. Why, how d' do, Arabella. You ain't 
working are you? 

3 



4 MRS. COULSON'S DAUGHTER 

Arabella, (crisply) Of course I'm workin'. 
With a mortgage to pay off, interest and taxes com- 
ing due and no one to help me out, I'd be plumb 
crazy if I didn't work. 

Susie, (limply dragging a chair forward and seat- 
ing herself) W-well, I don't know. When all this 
company's comin' 

Arabella. Can't stop for company. I didn't ask 
'em here anyway. 

Susie. You didn't 

Arabella, (turning about and for the first time 
giving her full attention to her guest) No, I didn't. 
But since you've just come home from a visit per- 
haps you don't know all about it yet. (Susie shakes 
her head) It was this way. Mrs. Plympton got 
a letter yesterday which she says concerns the whole 
neighborhood, so, of course, they all had to get to- 
gether to hear it and since I couldn't leave my work 
they're comin' here. That's why I'm havin' a party. 
(turning bach to her machine) There ain't no re- 
freshments in it either. 

Susie. I think I hear some one comin' now. 

(After rapping briskly Lizzie Land and Minnie 
Hayes come bustling in.) 

Arabella. How d' do, folks. Come right in and 
make yourselves at home. Don't mind me. I can't 
stop work. 

Lizzie. How d' do, everybody. 

Minnie. How d' do Arabella. Hello, Susie. I 
knew you'd be here, and of course I know that Mrs. 
Plympton won't be along for half an hour yet. She's 
as slow as a turtle. But I ain't curious about her 
letter. I guess I know what's in it. 

(Enter Mrs. Little without the formality of a rap.) 



MRS. COULSON'S DAUGHTER 5 

Mrs. Little. Whew ! Such a hill ! I'm most 
worn out! (she sinks into the nearest chair and 
fans herself with a handkerchief) 

Arabella, (without stopping her work) How 
d' do, Mrs. Little. 

Mrs. Little. AYhew ! Whew ! 

Minnie, (confidently) You'll git your breath 
back presently. I knew you'd be coniin' along right 
after us. How are you? 

Mrs. Little. Very poorly. Whew! 

Minnie, (aside) You look it. (to Susie) I 
suppose you've heard about this letter Mrs. Plymp- 
ton got yesterday ? I'm sure I don't care what's in it 
but she wanted us all to hear it so I came along with 
the rest, (impatiently) I wish she'd hurry up. 
Xot that I want to hear the letter, but I would like 
to git home to mend Jim's pants. My land! he 
ain't got a thing that's fit to wear. 

Mrs. Little, (peeking through the crack of the 
door) Here she comes this minute. 

(There is a short expectant hush during which Ara- 
bella continues to sew and the others surrepti- 
tiously do a little primping.) 



Arabella. 
Minnie. 



(A rap at the door.) 



Come in. 



All. (as Mrs. Plympton enters) How d' do, 
Mrs. Plympton. 

Mrs. Plympton. Good afternoon, ladies. How d' 
do, Mrs. Beans. You aren't busy, are you? 

Arabellia. (turning back to the machine*) Yes, 
of course I'm busy. I always am — busy as a bee in a 
tar barrel. But don't mind me. Go right on with 



6 MRS. COULSON'3 DAUGHTER 

your meetin'. {They all exchange looks of disap- 
proval) I am goin' to stop the machine in a minute 
anyway and jest do hand work. 

Minnie. Yes, let us go right on and get through. 

Mrs. Plympton. {drawing a chair forward and 
pealing herself with an air of importance) We will 
wait for Mrs. Beans. 

(All of the others dravj their chairs eagerly about 
her, but Arabella sits through the whole scene 
a little aloof before her machine.) 

Lizzie. I hope you didn't forget the letter. 

Mrs. Plymptox. Certainly not. I never forget. 

Minnie. Got it in your pocket, have you? 

Mrs. Plympton. I have it in my purse. 

Arabella, {closing the machine) There! Pve 
finished 'em all but the hand work. Now let's hear 
what there is to hear. 

Mrs. Plympton. You will all give me your at- 
tention, then? 

Arabella. Uhum. 

(All but Arabella hitch their chairs a little nearer 
Mrs. Plympton and she brings out a rather 
small, very ladylike looking envelope.) 

Mrs. Plympton. {with provoking slowness) It 
is the queerest letter you ever saw, and when I first 
opened it 

Minnie, {reaching for it) Let me see. 

Mrs. Plympton. {snatching the letter away from 
her) I will read it presently, but I think I ought to 
prepare you first for the shock 

Mrs. Little, {throwing up her hands) Another 
shock ! 

Minnie. Never mind the shock, go on with the 
letter. 



MRS. COULSON'S DAUGHTER 7 

Mes. Plympton. I must tell you first that it is 
from Lena Simpson — that was. You all remember 
her. 

Lizzie. Yes, of course. Me and her went to 
school together. 

Susie. And I used to think she was sort of pretty, 
too. 

Mes. Little. She married that rich man from 
the city, didn't she? And he died and left her well 
off. 

Mes. Plympton. That's what folks said, but this 
don't sound like he was very well off. Jest listen now. 
The envelope is addressed to me but this is the letter. 
(reading.) 

My dearest old friends'. 

Minnie. That sounds like she wanted something. 

Mes. Plympton. (continuing to read) I am 
leaving my daughter Carolyn in charge of the neigh- 
hood, feeling that she will be quite safe there when I 
am gone. She will choose one of you for her special 
guardian but I am sure you will all be good to her. 
I can write no more now. Lovingly yours, Lena 
Simpson Coulson. 

Minnie. Lena Simpson's daughter left on the 
town! 

Susie. TV-well I never! 

Arabella. My, my, though ! Ain't that too bad. 

Lizzie. I jest can't believe it all at once. 

Mes. Little. I call it pretty cool, the way she 
packs the child off to us. A body'd think we was 
havin' a donation party. Didn't her father have 
no folks? 

Mes. Plympton. I am sure I don't know. 

Mes. Little. That jest beats everything I ever 
heard of — leavin' her daughter to us to support. 



8 MRS. COULSON'S DAUGHTER 

And she's offered to us like she was some sort of a 
prize package. 

Mrs. Plympton. But you haven't heard all. The 
letter came last night but this noon I got this tele- 
gram, (reading the telegram) Lena Simpson's 
daughter will arrive at Plympton on the 4.40 train. 
(signed) S. S. W. 

Lizzie. Who is S. S. W? 

Mes. Plympton. I am sure 2" don't know. 

Mrs. Little. Humph! 

Minnie. It certainly is a mighty queer piece of 
business and I want to know who's goin' to take her. 

Mrs. Little. Well I can't do it ; I am jest about 
worn out now. 

Minnie. And I won't. Sakes alive ! it is all I can 
do to make ends meet now without another mouth 
comin' in between. 

Lizzie. That's jest how I feel. 

Arabella. (thoughtfully) And I've got my 
mortgage to pay off. 

Mrs. Plympton. And worse still, I have just 
ordered a girl from the Westville Orphanage to help 
me through the summer and she is coming to-mor- 
row, so, of course I can't think of taking her. 

Susie. W-well, I don't know, but it seems to 
me that we ain't goin' to have much choice in the 
matter. The letter says the girl will choose her own 
guardian. 

Minnie. Well, she won't choose me. 

Lizzie. Nor me. 

Mrs. Little. ISTor me. 

Arabella. Who's goin' to the train to meet her ? 

Minnie. She ain't goin' to be met. 

Arabella. It's a long lonely walk and it's 
goin' to be sort of discouragin' findin' no one home 
till she gits here — and her jest loosin' her mother 
and all. 



MRS. COULSON'S DAUGHTER 9 

Minnie. Fiddlesticks! Lonely! Humph! A 
woman like you with a mortgage to pay off ought not 
to have time to talk such stuff and nonsense. 

Mrs. Plympton. I'll tell you what we can do. 
"We can all take our chairs out into the orchard and 
from there we can see the train come in and watch 
her comin' most of the way from the station here. 

Lizzie. That will he fine. 

Mrs. Little. I don't care if I do. 

Minnie. It is most time for the train now, so 
come on. This way through the kitchen. It's short- 
est. 

(She leads the way carrying her chair and tliey all 
follow her with theirs, Arabella coming last.) 

Arabella, (gathering up her sewing) "Well, I 
may as well go, too. I don't want to miss nothin' if 
I am busy. 

Minnie, (from the kitchen) Hurry up. I hear 
the train whistlin'. 

(As Arabella goes out she very carefully closes the 
door after her and as soon as the commotion in 
the kitchen ceases and the " meetin' " is well on 
its way to the orchard, the door leading to the 
porch slowly opens and a prettily dressed young 
woman peeps in and then enters.) 

Carolyn. Hurry up, girls. Come on in. (ad- 
vancing into the room) Xo one seems to be at home 
either. 

(Enter Grace, Ruth, and Myrtle.) 

Grace. It is a real live deserted village, isn't it? 
Every house closed but this. 



10 MRS. COULSON'S DAUGHTER 

Ruth. I am glad they didn't lock us out entirely. 
I am so hungry, and maybe if we look around we 
can find something to eat. (she begins a tour of in- 
spection.) 

Myrtle. It doesn't look promising. 

Carolyn". No, it is the most starved-looking place 
I ever saw. There isn't even a chair k) sit on. 

Ruth, (at the cupboard) Oh, here is a ginger- 
cake ! And pickles ! 

Grace. Oh, goodie ! 

Myrtle. Anything else? 

Carolyn. Bring them over to the table and we 
will eat them right up. 

Myrtle, (at the kitchen door) Oh, here is the 
kitchen. Wait until yen see what I can find out 
here, (exit) 

Carolyn, (at the cupboard) Here is a jar of 
jam. Oh, girl-, we are going to have a feast! 

Grace, (carrying a pile of plates from the cup- 
board to the tabic) And here are some plates to 
eat it from. 

Myrtle, (coining in from the kitchen with a 
pan of milk) See what I have found. 

Grace. Oo-o-o-o ! Doesn't that look good ! 

Carolyn. Um-m-m-m, I am so thirsty. 

Ruth. I feel like a pussy cat. I want to put my 
nose right into the pan. 

Myrtle. Oo-oo-oo, don't say another word or you 
will make me laugh and spill it. (setting it on the 
table) There! 

Grace, (bringing them from the pantry) Here 
are some cups to drink it from and now let us begin. 
(she dips out the milk and passes it around) 

Carolyn. I can't find any silver so we will have 
to use our fingers for the rest, (putting her hand 
into the jar) Here Grace, have a pickle. 

Myrtle, (breaking off a piece of ginger-bread) 



MRS. COULSON'S DAUGHTER 11 

Just make yourselves at home and help yourselves to 
ginger-bread. (the girls all help themselves and 
begin to eat.) 

Euth. My ! hut this is good ! 

Grace. They're the best pickles I ever tasted. 

Carolyn. And isn't the ginger-bread simply 
magnificent ! 

Euth. Mm-mm-m-m. I'm so glad I came. 

Myrtle. So am I, but I wish I had something to 
sit on. I guess I'll perch on the machine. 

Carolyn. By-the-way, where do you suppose we 
are? 

Euth. The last siem post I saw said: TEX 
MILES TO PLYMPTOrJ. But we rode for some 
time after that before our motor broke down. 

Grace. And we have walked about fifteen miles 
since then. 

Carolyn. I simply must get to Plympton to-night 
if I have to fly there. 

Myrtle. And are you going to leave your auto- 
mobile cut there in the road all night? 

Carolyn. Why not ? I am not afraid anyone will 
steal it. It is too heavy to carry and I have proved 
to you all that it won't run. 

(They all laugh.) 

Myetle. (glancing about at the pictures) What 
a collection of art treasures ! Look. Lid you ever 
see anything like it? This alone is worth a day's 
journey to see. (jumping a own from the machine 
and approaching one , ' -ires with appropriate 

jesture) Behold the lady who makes this 

glorious soap ! And i igh the tedious process 

she never got a spot of grease on her gown, soiled her 
perfect hands or ruined her beautiful hair. Only five 
cents a cake. Sold at every reputable grocery store. 



12 MRS. COULSON'S DAUGHTER 

(coining bach to the machine) I am too hungry to 
tell you the rest just now. 

Grace. I wish there were fewer pictures and some 
chairs. The people who live here must all have 
wooden legs or they couldn't stand up all of the time. 
I am going to sit on the floor, (sitting and placing 
her cvp of milk on the floor beside her) Oh, girls, 
this is groat ! Why didn't we think of it before ! 
Combination chair and table. 

Ruth, (squatting beside her) This is sort of 
comfy. 

Myrtle. I am satisfied here. 

Carolyn, (sitting on the edge of the table) 
This suits me. Say, girls, isn't this good ginger-cake ! 

All. Umm-mm-m-m! 

Grace. But I am getting to have a dreadfully 
lost sort of feeling. Where do you suppose we are? 

Carolyn. It is lonely here. 

Ruth. And suppose the wooden-legged people 
come home and — and 

Myrtle, (getting down from the machine) Oh, 
stop. You make me feel spool-y. 

Grace, (getting up from the floor) Let's go. 
Come on, I am getting scared. 

Carolyn. Shs-sh-sh. I hear a noise in the 
kitchen. 

(They all scamper to the outer door and Arabella 
followed by the others, appears at the door.) 

Arabella. Well, I never! (advancing toward the 
table) My fresh ginger-bread ! My best pickles and 
the jar of jam I have been saving for the last six 
months. And the cream all gone off this morning's 
milk, and two of my best cups on the floor. I'll 
never get that mortgage paid off. 

Grace. I am so sorry. 



MRS. COULSON'S DAUGHTER 13 

Euth. We were all so hungry- 



Myrtle. And it looked so good we just couldn't 
help it. 

Carolyn, (stepping forward) And I think I ate 
most of it. 

Arabella. I guess you all had pretty good appe- 
tites. 

(A rap at the door.) 

Arabella. I „ . , 
r Come in! 
Minnie. 



(The door opens and the orphan, dressed in black 
and with a big bundle in her arms, enters.) 

The Orphan. Please, m-a'am 



Minnie, (interrupting) Well, it's time you got 
here. We've been waitin' for you for the last half 
hour. You are the slowest walker I ever seen. 

The Orphan. Please m'am, I was to say 

Mrs. Plympton. Don't stand there half outside 
the door and try to talk. Come right into the room. 
(having brought her chair back with her she now sits 
down and Mrs. Little, Lizzie and Susie do the 
same) You don't look much like your mother, I 
must say. 

The Orphan. But, ma'am 

Mrs. Little. Well, I don't know. Lena always 
was sort of skinny. 

Mrs. Plympton. (to The Orphan) Turn around 
and let us see if you are as queer looking from all 
sides as you are from this. 

Minnie, (as the girl slowly revolves) Lena 
surely didn't send us no parlor ornament, (finger- 



14 MRS. COULSON'S DAUGHTER 

ing her dress) They made your clothes out of mighty 
poor stuff, too. 

Ruth, (aside to Grace) They'll be doing that 
to us in a minute. Let us go while we have the 
chance, (she tries to slip out of the door) 

Arabella. Come back here. I have a few ques- 
tions to ask you about pickles and ginger-bread. 

(Ruth meekly obeys.) 

Lizzie, (to The Orphan) What can you do, 
can you cook? 

The Orphan. Nope. But, ma'am 

Mrs. Little. Did your ma teach you to sew? 

The Orphan. Nope. But, ma'am 

Mrs. Plympton. Can you scrub ? Now no nopes 
and but ma'ms to me. Just answer my questions. 

The Orphan. N-n-no, ma'am. But, ma'am 

Minnie. My sakes alive ! she can't do nothin' ! 
Brought up like a lady and looks like a scarecrow ! 

Lizzie. She is too much like a scarecrow for me 
to have around. 

Mrs. Little. Me, either. 

Mrs. Plympton. As I told you before it is simply 
out of the question for me to take her. 

Minnie. And as I told you before — I won't. 

Arabella. But what are you goin' to do with 
her? You can't turn her out in the fields to graze. 

Minnie. I don't know, but I can't take her. 

Lizzie. Nor I. 

Mrs. Plympton. Nor I. 

Mrs. Little. Nor I. 

Susie. Nor I. 

Minnie. It is the cheekiest thing I ever heard of, 
turning her loose on us like this. 

Arabella. We might take turn about 

All. No, indeed, I guess not. 



MRS. COULSON'S DAUGHTER 15 

Mrs. Plympton. We might send her to the West- 
ville Orphanage. 

Arabella, (slowly) W-well, I don't know what 
will ever become of that mortgage, but I can't see 
Lena's girl come to that, so I guess I'll have to take 
her. (kindly) Jest set down your bundle, child, 
and try to make believe you'r glad you've come to 
Plympton. 

Carolyn. Plympton! Is this Plympton? 

Arabella, (starting) Oh, I forgot about you. 
Yes, of course it's Plympton. Where else would it 
be? 

Carolyx. And who is this child? Would you 
mind explaining? 

Arabella. She is the daughter of an old friend 
who has just died and willed her to us and I am going 
to adopt her. I don't know how I'll ever pay off that 
mortgage but I guess a human being is of more 
account than a mortgage any day. 

Mrs. Plymptox. (pompously) Let me explain. 
Yesterday I received this letter (handing it and the 
telegram to Carolyx) and at noon to-day I re- 
ceived the telegram, and just now, as } r ou have seen, 
the girl arrived. 

Carolyx. (glancing up from the letter and point- 
ing to the orphan) So you think that is Carolyn 
Coulson ? 

j.Iixxie. Who else could it be ? 

Carolyx. I am sure I don't know, but I am Lena 
Simpson Coulson's daughter and my mother is not- 
dead but has just gone on a trip to Europe for the 
summer. In her hasty note she forgot to mention it 
— that is just like dear little mother. And I did 
not come on the four-forty train this afternoon be- 
cause it was such a beautiful day I thought it would 
be nice to motor out. And it was — but our car broke 
down (with a vague jesture) somewhere out there. 



16 MRS. COULSON'S DAUGHTER 

Mrs. Plympton. (rising to the occasion) Why, 
Miss Coulson, I am so glad to know you. I hope 
you will come right home with me and make me a 
good long visit. 

Carolyn, (stiffly) Thank you. 

Minnie. I would be proud to have you come to 
see me, Miss Coulson. My spare room is all ready 
for company. 

Mrs. Little. Mine too, and I live nearer than 
Minnie does. 

Lizzie. Do come and see me. 

Susie. W-well, I don't know, but maybe you 
would like to come to my house. 

Carolyn. Oh, thank you all very much, but you 
see I have my friends with me and 

Mrs. Plympton. (grandly) I have plenty of 
room for you all. 

Carolyn. I thank you again but I have chosen 
my guardian and think I should stay with her. 
(laying her hand on Arabella's shoulder) If you 
will let me board with you this summer I wouldn't be 
surprised if we could just about pay off that mort- 
gage. 

Arabella. What, you! Me! The mortgage! 
And I was so mad at you for eatin' up my ginger- 
bread. 

Minnie. But who are you then since you ain't 
Miss Coulson? 

The Orphan, (with an air of great relief) But, 
ma'am, please, ma'am, I'm Maggie McCabe. And I 
was to say, ma'am, that the asylum is so chock full 
could I please come to-day, ma'am, instead of to-mor- 
row. And 

Arabella. I guess you please could since you 
are here. 

Mrs. Plympton. Then you are my orphan, the 
one I ordered. 



MRS. COULSON'S DAUGHTER 17 

Arabella. No, she ain't. She's mine now. I've 
adopted her and after all that fuss I am going to keep 
her. 

Myrtle. (stepping forward with Grace and 
Ruth) And if you would adopt us until Carolyn 
gets her car fixed we would be very much obliged to 

you. 

Carolyn. If you wait for that, girls, I believe 
you are here for a very long and happy summer. 

The Orphan. And please, m'am, I was to say, if 
you want any more orphans you can have 'em. 



CURTAIN. 



AUG 31 1912 

LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 




017 199 305 2 



